In the Woods
by Imaginary-Dreams-Writer
Summary: Ever since he was little, Francis always dreamed of a mysterious, magical forest clearing. Little did he know that the dreams were the work of the magic of love.
1. Chapter I

_A/N: This started off as a one-shot based off of "In the Bluebell Woods", but it quickly exploded into a super long story that desperately needed to be split into chapters._

 _Apologies in advance for my horrible foreign language skills! Feel free to correct me as needed!_

* * *

 **Chapter I**

Francis didn't consider himself to be much of a dreamer in the magical sense. Sure, he loved listening to the fairytales and myths his mother read to him, but he didn't love them for the witches and magical creatures inlaid within the stories' pages. No, he loved listening to the endless tales of romance and the trials and tribulations love would overcome. When nighttime came and it was story time, he would be on the edge of his seat, eagerly waiting for his mother to reach the end, where the prince would reach the princess and they would live happily ever after together.

"My, aren't you a romantic!" his mother had giggled one night, when he had said he wanted her to reread _Beauty and the Beast._ "This is the the fifth time you've wanted to hear that tale this month!" She then stroked his silky blonde hair when he pouted and smiled. "It is a _magnifique_ tale, though. I can see why you are enchanted by it, _mon petit cœur._ " She then kissed his forehead and flipped through her large book of fairy tales, searching for the gold-trimmed page titled _La Belle et la Bête._

He was fast asleep as soon as his mother enunciated the last word of the story, curled under his sheets with a small, satisfied smile stretched across his face. His mother kissed his forehead and tucked him in, wondering what sweet, romantic dreams her blessed child would have over the course of the night.

That night, he dreamed about getting lost in a forbidden, magical forest and eventually stumbling upon a clearing covered in bluebells. In the midst of the secluded clearing was a small cloaked figure with its back to him. But before he could even begin to wonder who the cloaked figure was, the image faded into black emptiness and he was being gently woken up by his mother.

" _Maman, maman!_ " he exclaimed. "I had a wonderful dream last night!"

"Oh?" she asked as she brushed his hair. "What was it?"

"I was in a forest and found a clearing covered with pretty blue flowers!"

"Oh, that's very interesting, _mon petit_ _cœur._ " She smiled and kissed his forehead.

That night, she read him another fairytale and tucked him in for the night. Once again, he dreamed that he was in the clearing, playing and basking in the soft bed of flowers beneath his feet. However, the moment his eyes fell upon the back of the cloaked figure in the distance, he woke up to the bright rays of sunshine and his mother's warm smile.

" _Maman,_ I had the dream again!" he exclaimed.

She hummed in thought. "Oh? Perhaps it is a sign. Or even a message from the future!"

"Really?" he asked.

She kissed his forehead. "You never know," she whispered.

From that day on, every time he found himself dreaming about the wonderful forest clearing of bluebells, he would wake up and muse over what message the dream could possibly be trying to deliver to him.

* * *

The dreams stopped when he learned that his family had to move across the English Channel and into the rainy country of England for his father's work. His mother found herself too busy to read him bedtime stories and he became increasingly worried and anxious about leaving his home country. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, they made the move across the channel and settled down in their new home: a modest house at the edge of the woods in the countryside, far away from the popular, bustling city.

"I know it is hard, _mon cheri_ ," his mother said. "But think of this. Your father tells me that the locals believe these woods to be filled with magic."

"Magic?" Francis questioned boredly. "Ah, how exciting."

His mother smiled and her eyes twinkled. "Oh, but this magic is a special type of magic. It is said that this magic sleeps deeply in the wood, waiting to bring two destined lovers together even throughout their trials and tribulations."

That perked the seven year old up a great deal. "Lovers?" he asked. "So this sleeping magic...is the magic of _amour_?"

" _Oui,_ " she answered. "Who knows? Maybe you are the one who will help awaken it."

That night, for the first time in months, he dreamed that he was back in the woods. He was following an old, overgrown path leading deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually, he realized that the path had disappeared and he was wandering blindly through the darkness. He fumbled and cried out, trying to find his way back to the path. Suddenly, he stumbled across the tranquil clearing of bluebells. And, just the same as before, the cloaked figure was standing amidst the vibrant flowers in the distance. However, just as he was about to say something, the dream ended and he woke up to the dark ceiling of his new bedroom in his new home.

* * *

He was only slightly nervous on the first day of school. Some people had trouble understanding his accented English, but for the most part, everyone seemed to be nice and friendly. His first friend was Antonio, a brown haired, green-eyed Spanish boy that had moved to the area two years ago. At first, they had a difficult time understanding the other's accented English, but soon, the accents became nothing more than a wonderful characteristic of the other.

Almost half a year later, an albino German boy moved into the area and boldly introduced himself to Francis and Antonio as "The Awesome Gilbert!" Despite his arrogance and insistence on being Prussian, not German, the three quickly became inseparable friends. The name that the town would eventually call them by, however, was not officially coined until a few months later, when a boy transferred to their school and changed Francis's life in more ways than one.

It started off normal enough. Their teacher had informed the small class of a new student starting at the school the next day. Later that day, during lunch, Gilbert had conceived the "totally awesome" idea of messing around with the new kid. So when the next day came, the three set to work on making the new kid as weirded out as possible.

The new kid was an English boy with scruffy blonde hair, green eyes, and the most hideous eyebrows Francis had ever laid his eyes upon. To top it all off, he seemed more like a young gentleman than a child when the teacher introduced him and he politely greeted his new classmates. Nevertheless, at lunch, the trio of Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio made comical jabs at the boy, who was sitting but a table away from them. Later on that day, the boy finally snapped and called him all insufferable brats. "The trio of awesomeness?" he had scoffed when Gilbert protested. "More like the Bad Touch Trio! Everything you touch turns into utter rubbish!"

And thus was how the Bad Touch Trio became the most infamous friend group in the entire town.

* * *

For the first time in a year, Francis had the dream. He was lying down at the base of a tree in the forest, squinting through the darkness of the world beneath the canopy of leaves. Eventually, he pushed himself to a stand, using the trunk for support. He stumbled through the darkness for some time afterward, trying not to trip over any roots and his own feet. All he could think about was getting out of the dark world of trees and back home to his warm house and loving family.

The next thing he knew, he had emerged in a clearing. He felt his breath stop at his lips when he realized that he had emerged in the clearing of bluebells he had dreamed about so many times before in the past. He had been so preoccupied with school and spending time with his friends that he had nearly forgotten about the place. Daintily, he stepped into the field of bluebells, scanning over the budding flowers. If he remembered correctly, there should be…

He froze when he saw the distantly familiar cloaked figure. They were standing on the other side of the clearing with their back towards him. He could now see that the cloak was a wonderful shade of bottle green with black trim. Unfortunately for him, that was all he could see of the figure.

" _Bonjour?_ " He called out. "Hello? Can you hear me?"

The figure either didn't hear him or ignored him, for there was no reply. They didn't even move. Francis brushed a stray blonde strand of hair out of his eyes and frowned.

"Hello?" he called.

A breeze suddenly wafted through the clearing. The bluebells waved along with it, as if they were sharing a dance with the wind. Francis cupped his hands around his mouth and was about to shout out one more when he suddenly felt very lightheaded. Before he could even make a sound, he felt his legs give out and he fell into the bed of flowers beneath his feet.

 _"Hello?"_ he heard someone whisper as his vision faded to black.

Francis woke up in cold sweat. He quickly sat up and looked over towards the window, quickly finding that it was still pitch black outside. He looked at his nightstand and learned that it wasn't even three in the morning. With a disgruntled sigh, he fell back against his bed and draped a hand over his eyes. When he managed to close them again, all he could see was the cloaked figure standing in the midst of a flourishing ring of bluebells.


	2. Chapter II

_A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed/favorited/followed! It makes me happy to see that you're enjoying this story. :)_

 _Again, I have no Spanish/French/German skills, so feel free to correct any mistakes!_

* * *

 **Chapter II**

As an adolescent, Francis found that he rather liked pestering the English boy. He enjoyed seeing the boy become flustered over the subtlest of insults and listening to him run his mouth off, breaking his gentleman-like demeanor in the process.

"It's like it's your job to make the kid miserable," Gilbert noted.

"A job that I enjoy very much," Francis had chuckled in retaliation. His sapphire eyes then caught sight of a familiar mop of golden hair. "Ah, duty calls. _Au revoir!_ " He gracefully walked over to his favorite person to pester. " _Bonjour_ , Arthur."

Arthur shot Francis a glare that would've sent chills down any other person's spine. "Go away, frog."

Francis ignored the insult. "Oh, what is wrong, _mon ami?_ Did you miss tea time with your fairy friends this morning?"

Arthur angrily slammed his locker shut. His large eyebrows twitched in annoyance. "Don't insult what you cannot see," he snapped.

"Oh, but Arthur, it is well known that your fairy friends are but figments of your imagination! After all—!" Francis was abruptly cut off when Arthur socked him in the stomach.

"Sod off, you insufferable git!" he snapped before marching off. If this had been a scene in a cartoon, there would've been angry puffs sprouting from Arthur's head as he disappeared down the hallway.

Antonio was the first one to slip by Francis's side. "Ah, there he goes again." He shook his head. " _Mi amigo,_ is it _really_ necessary to tick him off every single time you see him?"

Francis scoffed. "Don't act as though you don't enjoy seeing him angry."

"Don't worry, Franny," Gilbert assured as he slung his arm across Francis's shoulders. His red-violet eyes locked on the end of the hallway Arthur had disappeared in. "I don't think either of you would be able to stay within the other's company and not say something nasty to one another anyways. It's as necessary as breathing for you now."

" _Sí,_ " Antonio agreed. "But then again, doesn't that apply to all of us? Arthur doesn't like any of us very much, I'm afraid…"

"Details, details!" Gilbert dismissively waved his hand. "What matters now is that we're more awesome than that delusional _balg_ and Franny can pester him all he wants about that for the sake of his health!"

Francis smiled. " _Merci,_ Gilbert,"

* * *

Francis nudged the line separating the dark, murky grass of the forest and the vibrant, spring grass of the clearing with his toe. His hair fell into his face when he looked down at the line. He wondered how the grass was able to so cleanly and abruptly go from dead and dreary to bright and healthy almost like magic. _But it can't be magic,_ he reasoned with himself. _That only happens in the fairy tales_ maman _would tell me when I was little._

Regardless of the whirlwind of thoughts swirling about in his head, he stepped into the clearing once more.

The bluebells welcomed him by dancing up and down and wafting their wonderful scent into the air.

"Back here again," he mumbled to himself. He looked around the clearing. It looked exactly the same as it had the last time he had dreamed of the place. A ring of trees surrounded the clearing like a fence. The spring green ground was bespeckled with thousands of blue-violet flowers. If he payed close enough attention, he could feel the tingle of something warm floating about in the air.

His cerulean eyes then fell upon the cloaked figure at the other end of the field.

 _Who is that person?_ He wondered. _Who is the one who appears so mysteriously in my dreams?_

He took one step forward. Then another. Then another. Soon, he was wading his way across the field, making his way towards the unmoving figure.

Halfway across the field, he felt his muscles tense up. He tried to take another step, but his feet refused to move. He saw black spots dance across his vision, warning him of the short time he had left in the dream world.

 _But I must reach the other side,_ his mind protested. _I need to know who that figure is..!_

Before he could finish his thought, his world spiraled into darkness. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on his bed in his room, staring up in shock at the listless ceiling.

* * *

"These woods are plentiful dark for this time of day, aren't they?" Antonio said nervously.

"Afraid you're going to be the one to piss your pants first, Tonio?" Gilbert cackled. Antonio gently hit Gilbert upside the head in retaliation.

It was a wonderful afternoon the summer before their eighth grade year and the Bad Touch Trio were currently exploring the woods behind Francis's house. The reason why they were embarking on such an adventure was because it was their first week of summer vacation and Gilbert had wanted to embark on a test of courage to "prove his awesomeness" to some boy he fought with a lot in band, or something. To be honest, Francis had tuned Gilbert out the moment he mentioned the name Roderich, as he didn't like the Austrian boy one bit.

Gilbert waved his hand in front of Francis's face. "You still with us, Franny-pants?"

"Hmm?" Francis blinked. "Ah, _désolé._ " Hepointed at the path beneath their feet. "Come on, _mes amis,_ " he urged. "Onward!"

The trio continued along the path, chattering away with one another. Though it had been sweltering when they left Francis's house, the multitude of trees provided an ample amount of shade to take refuge in. At one point, they had to stop because Antonio was exhausted and had tripped badly over a log.

" _Gut gemacht_ , clumsy," Gilbert snorted.

"Wah, _lo siento!_ " Antonio cried.

Francis raised his hands. "Now, now, _mes_ _amis,_ a little break won't hurt us. Besides, I'm positive we're all a bit peckish, _non?_ "

They sat under a tree and ate the food Francis's mother had packed for them, under the presumption that they were going out hiking with Gilbert's cousin all afternoon (a lie, of course). When they finished, Francis woke up Antonio from his nap and they resumed exploring the shadowy forest.

"You know," Antonio began, " _mi mamá_ used to tell me that there was magic sleeping deep within this forest."

"Magic?" Gilbert cackled. "Ya mean like the stuff _Augenbrauen_ believes in?"

Francis pushed Gilbert aside. "My _maman_ used to do the same," he told Antonio. "She said that the magic will only awaken to bring two lovers together."

Gilbert brightened at the description of the story. "Maybe that's why Artie loves hanging out in here."

Francis looked at his albino friend in disbelief.

"Really?" Antonio asked. "That would explain a lot."

"Wait, did you say that _Arthur_ spends his time in here?" Francis asked.

Gilbert shrugged and kicked over a loose stone on the broken path. "That's what I've heard from Elizabeta, at least. And it makes sense too, now that you've said there's apparently magic in here. You know how he _loves_ his magical creatures." His lips cracked into a fiendish grin. "Maybe he prances around in here thinking he's playing with fairies and crap."

Francis watched in slight fear as Antonio grinned to match Gilbert. "Arthur Kirkland, the gentleman of our grade, prancing around in a forest with fairies?" he snorted. It wasn't that hard to imagine the Brit doing such a thing, considering how much he loved his magical creatures. "Sounds rather girly, doesn't it?"

"Come on, Tonio!" Gilbert looped his arm around Antonio's shoulders. "This is your chance to get back at him for destroying your precious model ship! If we get pictures and hand them over to Liz, he'll be ruined!" Gilbert looked over at Francis. His red-violet eyes sparkled with mischief. "What do you say, Franny? Ready to humiliate your ultimate rival once more?"

Francis entertained the thought of seeing Arthur lost in a haze of delusion, prancing and dancing foolishly in a shady forest.

"What are we waiting for?" he asked. "We have a Brit to capture!"

The three boys cheered in unison and dashed deeper into the forest, just barely remembering to stick to the path. Eventually, though, they found that not only was the path breaking up and fading away to overgrown greenery, but they had no idea how in the world they were going to locate the Brit they loved to pester. Despite the dawning realities of their situation, though, the trio pressed on, eager to find at least some tale of bravery to take back home with them.

At some point, Francis had to stop in order to rest his sore and aching feet. Gilbert and Antonio begrudgingly obliged to taking a break.

"Where could that _pirata_ be?" Antonio wondered with a light sigh. "I want to get this done with and go home so I can take a proper siesta."

Gilbert looked at his phone, which was really a crappy flip phone for emergencies whenever his parents left him alone with his brother. "It's not even four, you lazy Spaniard," he grumbled, knocking on the side Antonio's head. Antonio pretended that the hits had hurt and pouted.

Francis laughed softly at the ordeal. "He can't be that far. This forest is only so large." He stood up and spread his arms out towards the unexplored area before them. "Besides, even if we can't find _rosbif_ , we can always—" He took a step forward and froze the moment his foot hit the ground. For a second, he stood petrified as if he had been caught under Medusa's gaze.

"Francis!" Antonio and Gilbert ran over to their friend just in time to catch him as he collapsed. They looked at each other in disbelief upon realizing that Francis was out cold in their arms.

"W-what are we going to do?" Antonio frantically asked, looking at Gilbert expectantly.

Gilbert winced. "Don't look at me! I don't know what to do!" he exclaimed.

"But you have to watch over your _hermanito_ all the time! What would you do if he collapsed?"

"That doesn't mean anything! Besides, Lud would never collapse!" Gilbert scowled. "Uh, I guess we have to lie him down and wait? I don't know!"

Antonio helped Gilbert lower Francis to the ground so his head was safely nestled on top of their backpacks. The two boys sat on either side of their unconscious friend and studied him carefully.

"I wonder what happened to make him collapse," Antonio wondered.

Gilbert nodded. "Same."

* * *

When Francis took a step forward, the ground beneath his feet instantly turned into a patch of sweet, summer green grass. He watched in shock and awe as the clearing that haunted his dreams shimmered into existence.

 _No way..._

"Antonio? Gilbert? Do any of you—" He turned around and found that his friends were nowhere in sight. "...see this?" He frowned and wildly looked around. " _Mes amis?_ Are you playing a trick on me?" When there was no response, he turned back to the clearing. Without a second thought, he stepped into the circle of flourishing greenery. The bluebells around his feet bobbed happily in the faint breeze. Overhead, the sun smiled down upon the clearing, blessing the area with its holy light and warmth.

He stopped when he spotted the cloaked figure in the distance. Only this time, the figure was moving. They seemed to be swaying and swirling around within a cloud of butterflies. When Francis got a little closer, he gasped upon finding that the butterflies were actually little fairies happily darting about in the air.

 _No, that is impossible! Fairies only exist in fairy tales and the fantasies of the young!_ He covered his eyes, counted to ten, and then unveiled them. The scene, to his disappointment, didn't change. _This cannot be real. I must be back in my dream._

The figure abruptly stopped. The fairies surrounding the person slowly fell to a halt as well. A few fluttered away in various directions. The few that did stay seemed to be busy fussing over the cloaked stranger.

Then the stranger suddenly turned around. Although the hood obstructed the person's face from the nose up, Francis still found himself forgetting how to breathe when his eyes laid upon what he could see of the stranger's fair face. He wanted to run over and tug down the hood of the cloaked stranger, to see who they were and be able to figure out the mystery of the bluebell clearing once and for all.

"Hello?" Francis called out.

The stranger's lips parted in confusion. It seemed like they were saying something, but for some reason, Francis couldn't hear what was being said. He tried to get closer to see if that would help, but no matter how many steps he took, there was no way for him to hear what the figure was saying.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" Francis finally called out. "I can't hear you!"

The stranger frowned. The fairies flying around them seemed anxious now. They were fluttering their wings far too often to be healthy. The part that disturbed Francis the most, though, was that they all seemed to be looking at him. He took another step and tried to call out again, but his legs suddenly gave out and he fell face forward into the sweet smelling grass and bluebells, his vision spiraling into complete darkness.

* * *

Francis sat up in an instant, causing him to knock his forehead against Gilbert's. The two boys cried out in pain and clutched their heads.

"Francis!" Antonio cried in relief and threw his arms around Francis. "You're alive!"

Francis shrugged Antonio off and looked between his two friends in confusion. "Eh? What do you mean? What happened?" He looked past the two and realized that the clearing he had been in was nowhere in sight. Instead, he was met with the never-ending maze of trees and greenery within the depths of the forest.

Gilbert, who was still holding his head, scowled. "You friggin' passed out all of a sudden, that's what! Gave us a good scare, too!"

Francis frowned. "I did?"

Antonio tilted his head in confusion. "Eh? But you did, _mi amigo!_ You suddenly fell! We were so worried! You've been out for hours!"

"Ten minutes," Gilbert corrected.

Francis scratched the back of his head and sheepishly smiled at his friends. "Ah, _je suis désolé_ ,"he apologized. "I didn't mean to make you worry."

"Say that to my aching head!" Gilbert huffed and, once he had brought his anger under control, clapped Francis's shoulder. "Come on, Franny-pants. Now that you've gone ahead and knocked yourself out in here, I don't think finding Artie is such a good idea anymore. We should get out of here."

Antonio helped Francis to his feet. "Feeling better?" he asked.

Francis's mind instantly went to the cloaked figure and the obstructed view of their face he had seen. " _Oui,_ " he decided. "Much better."


	3. Chapter III

_A/N: Welcome to chapter three! I'm glad to see that we've made it this far. (Because the next chapter is going to be loooong...)_

 _Once again, thank you soooo much for the reviews/follows/favorites!_

 _Oh, and I'm still horrible at foreign languages, so corrections are welcome!_

* * *

 **Chapter III**

Due to Francis's fainting spell, the Bad Touch Trio agreed to never again set foot in the forest. But because of the events of that fateful day, Francis would occasionally sneak out at the crack of midnight with nothing but a flashlight and a coat in the colder seasons and follow the path into the innards of the forest. Every time he reached the spot he had passed out in, he would find himself standing in the clearing of bluebells under the night sky. The cloaked figure was never there during his nightly visits, though, which greatly upset him.

The summer passed by without any major disturbances, except for the periodic dreams of the clearing of bluebells and the elusive cloaked figure in the distance. Every now and then he would consider telling Antonio and Gilbert about his dreams, but would always decide against it in the end. Antonio was too thick-headed for his own good and Gilbert wasn't the best to talk to about something like magical dreams seriously.

Time passed and before Francis knew it, another year had gone by and he was starting up in high school. It was a year of many firsts for him. His first real kiss, his first official girlfriend, his first breakup, his first time holding a position of importance in the student council, his first time ever getting into serious trouble for fighting with Arthur...the list went on and on. The other two-thirds of the Bad Touch Trio would've called him a pansy for being so melodramatic over everything that was going on in his life if they hadn't undergone many new, vigorous experiences as well. Gilbert had suddenly landed himself as first chair flute in the orchestra, meaning that he had to deal with Roderich and responsibility more often that he'd like to admit. Antonio had reconnected with an Italian boy he had befriended as a child at the animal shelter he volunteered at and now spent more time with the boy than with the trio.

"Look at you boys!" Francis's mother cooed when she spotted them talking together at the Bonnefoy's annual holiday party. "You're all so grown up now! Oh, I remember when you all were just little boys. Now you're a first chair flutist, a passionate volunteer, and student council vice president! You three will be fine gentlemen indeed!"

When she finally left, Gilbert gave Francis a confused look. "Is she drunk?"

"Sentimental," Francis sighed.

"We have come a long way though, haven't we?" Antonio pointed out with his signature smile. "Your _mamá_ must be proud, Francis!"

Francis smiled weakly and Gilbert snorted into his drink.

* * *

The dreams about the clearing of bluebells and the cloaked figure still haunted Francis on select nights. Whenever he snuck out and found himself in the clearing in the woods, he would sit down in the soft grass and look up at the night sky to contemplate his life. He had long since learned that outside factors did not affect the clearing. It seemed to be eternally spring in the area, since the bluebells were always in full bloom and the grass was always sweet and green.

 _This place...I hate to admit it, but this must be a place of magic._ Francis closed his eyes and slowly inhaled. He vaguely recalled his mother's words about the nature of the magic that supposedly slept deep within the woods. _A magic that waits to bring two destined lovers together, eh? Then does that mean that this place is the magic the story speaks of? And if so, then why is it that I'm a part of it? Who is the other?_ He sighed. _Surely it must be the cloaked person. But who is it that hides beneath that hood?_

"Who's there?"

Francis's eyes flew open upon suddenly hearing the voice. He lifted his head and felt his breath leave his lips, for the cloaked stranger was standing on the other side of the clearing. The darkness of the night concealed their defining features from him, but it was enough for his heart to pound with joy.

"Hello?" Francis scrambled to his feet. "Is someone there?"

"Uh...here."

Francis marched as fast as he could towards the figure. Every inch of his body was hoping and praying that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to reach the wonderfully mysterious figure and be able to unveil their identity once and for all.

"S-stop!"

Francis halted not because he was requested to, but because he suddenly felt as though he recognized the voice. A wave of terror washed over his body, because if he was right in his assumption, then he was screwed for life. "Yes?" he said slowly.

The figure took a step back. "You...you are..?"

Francis tilted his head. "I am who?"

"No...no, you can't be. This can't be true."

"What is?"

The stranger took another step back. "It can't be you..! You can't be the one from my..!"

"What?"

The cloaked stranger suddenly turned on their heel and ran off in the other direction.

"Oi!" Without thinking, Francis switched his flashlight on and ran after the person. "Hey, get back here!"

"Go away!"

Francis weaved in and out through the trees, never once letting the bottle green and black cloak out of his sight.

"Stop!"

"Never in a million y—AH!"

Francis was able to stop himself before he could make the same mistake the other did and fall into the ditch. He carefully stepped down into the crevice and kneeled beside the other.

"Are you okay?" Francis reached out to touch the other's arm, but his hand was slapped away.

"Don't touch me!"

Francis watched in disbelief as the hood slipped off of the stranger's head, revealing a familiar mop of messy blonde hair and a pair of angry emerald eyes to him.

 _Oh...no._

"A- _Arthur?!_ "

The student council president scrambled to lift his hood again, but Francis dropped his flashlight and forcefully grabbed the other boy's arms.

"Unhand me, frog!"

Francis's eyes examined the other in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. " _Non,_ oh, no, you cannot be… It has to be a mistake..! I don't want to believe that..!"

Arthur wretched his arm from Francis's grip. "Likewise to you!" he snapped.

Francis shook his head. "But that means...you are the one in the cloak? The one who keeps appearing in my dreams?"

Arthur looked away. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Francis was angry now. "Well, you clearly must, because you happened to be at the clearing that no one else but I seem to be able to enter!"

"Don't pester me with your bullshit! I'm leaving!" Arthur tried to stand up, but stumbled the moment he placed his weight on his right foot and fell. Francis grabbed his wrist before he could try again.

"Your ankle, is it hurt?" he asked.

Arthur tried to wrest out of Francis's grip. "Unhand me! I'm fine!"

"No _,_ you are not, _mon ami._ " Francis pushed Arthur back. "Let me see your ankle."

"Don't you dare touch me, you insufferable frog!" But the Brit found that he had no other choice but to sit in annoyance as Francis examined his ankle.

"It doesn't look bad," Francis finally concluded. "No swelling or bruises or anything. But it must hurt quite a bit." He gently set Arthur's foot on the ground. "Come on. I will help you home."

Arthur's face flushed red. "I don't need your help!" He pushed Francis away and tried to stand again, but to no avail. "Dammit, I don't..!"

Francis slipped Arthur's arm over his shoulder, providing him with some support for when he stepped on his right foot. "Here."

Arthur muttered something under his breath, but stopped struggling and let Francis help him hobble through the forest. The student council president and vice president walked in awkward silence for some time.

"Do you have dreams, Arthur?"

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean, frog?"

Francis furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Do you dream about being in that clearing, like I do?"

"As if I would ever tell you."

"You play with your magical friends there, _non?_ "

Arthur flushed in anger. "Are you insulting me?"

"I have seen it with my own eyes, _lapin,_ " Francis explained. "Years ago, you were prancing in that field with, as much as I hate to admit it, _fairies._ "

He didn't have to look to know that Arthur was gaping at him in astonishment. "You...you could _see_ them? No, but…" He bit his lip as if he was trying to hold back from saying something.

"But what?" Francis pushed.

Arthur couldn't fight back his smirk of triumph. "So you admit that they're real, then?"

Francis clicked his tongue in annoyance and restrained himself from smacking that smug grin off of the other's face. "Of course you're only concerned about your delusions, you delinquent!"

"I am not a delinquent!"

" _Désolé._ Punk."

"You take that back you..!" Arthur was about to hit Francis upside the head, but suddenly stopped himself. "Tch." He looked away.

Francis was surprised. "Arthur? You alright, _lapin?_ "

"Don't call me that, bastard."

He snickered. "Do you even know what it means?"

Arthur's silence said it all.

"I thought so. Really, you are so uncultured..."

"Oh, stuff it, git." He hesitated. "Why the hell do you call me that anyways? I'm not a fucking rabbit, you know."

Francis's eyes lit up. "What was that?"

Arthur scowled. "Are you deaf? I'm asking you why the hell you call me a—" He bit his tongue upon realizing what he was about to say. "Don't give me that look!" he snapped. "I looked it up!"

A prideful smile erupted across Francis's face. "So you _do_ understand some French! What happened to it being the language of frogs, _mon ami?_ "

"We are not friends!" Arthur spluttered. "Besides, I had to figure out what kind of bloody things you were calling me somehow!"

"Oh, _sourcils,_ you make my heart flutter in triumphal joy!"

"Shut the hell up, you wanker!" Arthur weakly smacked Francis upside the head. An unsettling silence followed soon after. Francis continued to smirk despite the venomous glares the younger boy was shooting at him. He knew full well that he had the upper hand on his opponent, and it wasn't just because of Arthur's busted ankle.

"Why were you in that clearing at this hour anyways?"

Francis looked over at his enemy. Arthur was staring straight ahead into the line of light Francis's flashlight was casting.

"I could ask you the same."

"I asked first."

Francis heaved a heavy sigh. "I told you. I keep dreaming of that place. And when I found that I could enter it awake through this forest, well…" He sighed. "It's hard to explain. I just feel... _drawn_ to that place. It is like a mystery I cannot solve."

"Sounds odd coming from someone who mindlessly snogs with every girl in the school."

"Oh, _lapin,_ you wound me."

Arthur looked like he was going to say something snarky back at the other, but instead, he said, "When I first moved here, it always felt like the forest was...beckoning to me. It wouldn't stop calling to me even in my dreams."

"Oh?" Francis was curious now.

Arthur continued, "One day, I just followed my instincts and blindly went into the forest. A horde of fairies suddenly appeared out of the woodwork when I got lost. They showed me the way to that clearing of bluebells." He closed his eyes. "The moment I stepped onto the grass, I knew that I belonged there."

Francis stopped moving, forcing Arthur to stop moving as well.

"What is it, frog?"

Francis smiled and looked down at the ground. "Nothing, _mon ami._ Nothing."

"Doesn't seem like it," Arthur snorted.

"I was just thinking of something," Francis said, his mind drifting off to what his mother had said about the forest many years ago. "Something someone told me a long, long time ago."

Arthur shook his head. "Sappy git," he muttered.

It didn't take them long after that to reach Arthur's house. Francis was surprised to find that it bordered the edge of the forest much like his did.

"Will you be alright?" Francis asked. "Can you walk on your own now?"

Arthur released Francis and tried to take a step. "Better now," he said, trying to hide his limp from Francis and utterly failing to do so.

"If you insist."

Arthur turned away, his cloak swirling around his ankles as he did. "...Thanks, frog," he muttered.

Francis's eyes widened. He was about to say something, but Arthur hobbled away before he could. "You're welcome, _lapin_ ," he chuckled and smiled to himself. _Now, how do I get home from here..?_

* * *

" _Bonjour, mon petit lapin._ "

Arthur's large eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, but he kept his cool. "Hello, frog. Weird to see you without some girl attached to your arm."

Francis smiled. "Same to you with your cape."

Arthur clicked his tongue in irritation.

"How is your ankle? It hasn't been bothering you?"

"My ankle is fine, thanks for asking." Arthur slammed his locker shut. "You know, just because we ran into each other that one time doesn't mean we're friends or anything."

Francis shrugged. " _Oui,_ I would hate to see my worst enemy as a friend. Not like you'd understand what having a friend is like..."

Arthur rounded on the other. "You bloody..!" He was about to swing his fist, but then remembered that he was in school and that he couldn't afford to be stuck in another detention with the French teen. With another click of his tongue, he lowered his hand and looked away.

"Oh, giving up so fast?"

"Piss off, frog licker."

Francis smirked. "I don't think so, _lapin._ "

"Why do you insist on pestering me so?"

To be honest, Francis didn't have an exact answer. But, for the sake of keeping up appearances, he flipped his hair and said, "I just love it when you're flustered, _sourcils._ And when you drop your silly little gentleman act and show just how much of a punk you truly are."

Arthur threw his hands up into the air. "Why do I even bother?" he grumbled. "I'm leaving now. Bye." He turned on his heel and walked down the hallway.

Francis would've congratulated himself on yet another win, but his mind became too preoccupied with his mother's words to even think about his rivalry with Arthur.

 _"Oh, but this magic is a special type of magic. It is said that this magic sleeps deeply in the wood, waiting to bring two destined lovers together even throughout their trials and tribulations."_

He looked away from the direction Arthur had gone in and cursed himself. _If we are the only ones who are able to enter that clearing...does that mean we are the lovers in that tale?_ He winced at the thought. He could hear Gilbert laughing at him now. _Ugh, if I didn't keep dreaming about that place, I would've dismissed it as a tall tale long ago. But...being with Arthur…_ He thought about the other boy's messy blonde hair and emotional green eyes, how his thick eyebrows would furrow together when he was angry and how his face would light up whenever he gave one of his rare smiles. _...Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad?_

"Yo, Franny!" Gilbert interrupted Francis's thoughts when he tackled him into a headlock. "Woah, your hair got longer! Makes you look more girly!"

Francis laughed. " _Bonjour,_ Gilbert. How was your time in Germany?"

"The beer, Francis. The beer!" Gilbert sighed dreamily. "It was so awesome that awesome doesn't even begin to describe how awesome it was!"

"Of course all you'd be happy about is the beer." Francis smiled. "Have you seen Antonio yet? Or know of his whereabouts?"

"Oh yeah, I saw him." Gilbert flashed Francis a shit-eating grin. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you what he was doing, though."

"Try me."

Gilbert leaned in so he could whisper to Francis. "You know Feli's brother?"

"How could I not?" Francis chuckled.

Gilbert's smile widened. He pulled out his phone, which was significantly smarter than the crappy flip phone he owned as a child, and showed Francis the picture he had taken merely minutes before.

" _Mon dieu..!_ " Francis gasped and looked up at his friend. "Our Antonio has found _amour_ at long last!"

"Now we won't have to worry about him being heartbroken over his "adorable little Lovi" all the fucking time!" Gilbert exclaimed.

Francis nodded and helped himself to a small smile. " _Oui._ I am very proud of him." He continued to examine the photograph of Antonio happily sharing a lip lock with Lovino. For a brief moment, he imagined himself sitting in the forest clearing with Arthur at his side, his cloak draped over both of their shoulders as they tenderly held hands. But he quickly shook the image out of his mind and looked away from the picture.

* * *

It didn't take Francis long to realize that most of his insults towards Arthur had almost no bite in them anymore. In fact, it seemed that every time he so much as thought of the pseudo-gentleman, he couldn't help but think about being in the forest clearing with him, holding hands, laughing, or just sitting side by side, even. Even his dreams were filled with the woodland scent of the bluebells and the swirling of Arthur's signature green cape.

One day, Gilbert clamped a hand on Francis's shoulder and said slowly, "Francis, _mein Freund_ , we need to chat."

Francis frowned. Gilbert rarely, if ever, used this serious tone. "Okay..?"

Antonio joined in with a solemn expression. "Usual place," he said.

Now Francis was extremely suspicious. Antonio was the most carefree and unserious person he knew. In fact, seeing the Spaniard in a mood that didn't have some relation to happy was a downright crime. "Ah, _oui._ "

When it was time for lunch, Francis grabbed his bag and went to the abandoned classroom on the top floor of the school. The three had discovered it during their second week of school and used it often for when they wanted to be in private or have lunch away from the others. Francis mused on how the place hadn't been discovered by the faculty yet. He supposed the pile of broken desks stacked outside of it contributed to the area's secrecy.

Antonio and Gilbert were already inside when he stepped into the room. Antonio had part of a sandwich hanging out of his mouth and Gilbert was brushing crumbs off of his bright red sweatshirt.

" _Bonjour_ ," Francis greeted with some skepticism in his voice.

"Franny," Gilbert greeted, only he said it without his usual lecherous grin.

"What is it you want to discuss?" Francis asked, taking a seat in between the two.

Gilbert and Antonio exchanged looks. Antonio plucked his sandwich from his mouth. "You want to start, _amigo?_ "

"I guess the awesome me will do it." Gilbert's crimson eyes locked onto Francis's ocean blue irises. "Tonio and I want to talk about your emotions. Mainly the looks you keep giving a certain Brit _._ "

Francis, who had been leaning back, nearly fell over. " _Pardon?_ "

Antonio piped up this time, "We've seen the way you look at him and talk to him now. It reminds me of myself when I was around Lovi before we started dating." He reached for his water. "I thought you hated him. What happened?"

For the first time in his life, Francis wished he could melt into a puddle to get away from his friends. He already knew he was in trouble when Gilbert dropped his easy-going nature and asked to talk. But to find out that someone as oblivious and thick-headed as Antonio had figured out something he couldn't figure out himself? Francis knew that he wasn't getting out of this situation anytime soon.

"I…" Francis found himself at a loss for words.

Gilbert frowned. "C'mon, man, you can't be in denial. What happened to being the master of _"l'amour"?_ " He said the last word with an obvious hint of distaste in his voice.

Francis swallowed. "I...don't know." He pushed his bag away and averted his eyes. Suddenly, he didn't have an appetite anymore.

"Francis," Antonio urged.

" _Désolé,_ " he whispered.

There was a long, awkward pause between the three. Gilbert continued staring at Francis, expectantly waiting for his answer. Antonio only looked at his friend when he wasn't busy eating. Francis kept looking at the ground.

Surprisingly, Antonio was the one who broke the silence. "You know," he began, "if you think about it, _cejas_ wouldn't be that bad of a match for you."

"Hmm?" Francis looked up in surprise. Antonio shrugged.

"You've been getting along a little better nowadays, haven't you?" he asked.

Antonio wasn't lying, Francis told himself. Ever since he and Arthur had run into each other in the clearing over break, there had been a strange sort of companionship forming between the two. Granted, Francis was absolutely convinced that the sentiment was only one-sided on his part, but if _Antonio_ of all people was pointing out something like that, then…

"Well?" Gilbert asked. "Do you like him? In that way?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice began whispering to him. _They're your friends. You can trust them. You can trust them with anything. They're already showing how much they support you._

Francis looked back and forth between his friends. A pair of green and scarlet eyes looked back at him expectantly.

 _See?_

"I think," Francis finally said, "that I do."

Antonio burst into smile that somehow managed to light up the entire room. "Oh, you admit it!"

Gilbert snorted. "Finally. I was gonna flip my shit if you didn't man up already."

Antonio pushed Gilbert aside. "Don't listen to him, Francis," he said, shooting Gilbert a glare in the process. "He's just jealous because he doesn't have anyone to love."

Gilbert pushed Antonio back. "I am not!"

Francis raised his eyebrows. "Eh? But didn't you ditch us that one time to spend time with R—"

Gilbert lunged forward and frantically covered Francis's mouth. "Shut the hell up!" he snapped. "We had to practice for my solo!"

Francis pushed Gilbert off and smiled. "Sure, Gilbert. Sure."

Gilbert fought hard to prevent himself from blushing. "Anyways! Back to Francis and his little love story!"

Antonio stopped laughing. "Ah, _sí, sí._ " He fanned himself in an attempt to calm down. "Well, now that we know this, there's nothing left to do except get you two to be a wonderful couple!"

"Of course," Gilbert smirked, "we'll be the awesome friends you'll thank for years when you tell your kids how you got together."

Francis raised his hand. "Ah, but we have one major problem."

" _¿Qué?_ " Antonio tilted his head to the side.

Francis sighed. "He still hates my guts to hell and back, that's what."

Gilbert scowled. "Of course your fucking rivalry has to go ahead and complicate things for us."

"It's not my fault!"

Antonio patted Francis's back. "Don't worry, _mi amigo,_ " he reassured. "It'll be alright! We'll work this out! Just think of it like with Lovi and me! Man, I thought he hated my guts, but look at us now!"

Francis couldn't help but light up when Antonio said that. _If Tonio can win over the rudest, most antisocial person in the world, then I can catch this little rabbit as well._ Francis smiled. " _Oui,_ you are correct, Antonio." He stood up. "Alright! Let's start planning! _L'amour_ waits for no one, after all!"

Gilbert smiled and placed his hands behind his head. "There's the Francis I know," he chuckled. "Alright! Let's get to work! Operation 'Get Francis His _Liebe_ ' is a go!"


	4. Chapter IV

_A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I want to thank you all now for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting this story! It really means a lot to me. *sends you all virtual hugs*_

 _I hope you enjoy the final (and extremely long) chapter of this story!_

* * *

 **Chapter IV**

If Arthur had to pick a month other than July to designate as his least favorite month of the year, he'd let February hold the title. Because February was the month that housed the ever so dreaded Valentine's Day, which was nothing more than a day consisting of people being far too sappy and melodramatic for their own goods. The overbearing amount of pink and red everywhere also made him sick.

So, of course, when February first rolled about, Arthur was in a foul mood. It seemed as though everyone around him was preparing for the holiday, whether it meant hanging up hearts and cupid cut outs from the ceiling to girls gushing about what romantic fling they'd have with their boyfriends to the various clubs selling chocolates and flowers for fundraising.

It was sickening.

He sighed and dialed his combination into his locker. When he opened the metal contraption, however, a piece of paper fluttered out of it. Confused, he knelt down and picked up what appeared to be a carefully made Cupid cut-out. Loopy words were written across the small item's wings.

 _"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind." (Shakespeare)_

Arthur stared at the paper in confusion. _A Shakespeare quote? Who would send me something like this?_ He turned it over, looking for a signature, but found none. With a brief shake of his head, he tucked the paper in his bag and reached for the textbook he needed.

When he got home, he placed the Cupid on his nightstand, beside his alarm clock. For a brief moment, he could've sworn that it fluttered its wings at him.

"What's that?"

He tore his eyes away from the paper to spy a small fairy floating in the air beside him.

"Nothing," he answered, extending his finger out for the creature to land on. "What brings you here? You lot usually never leave the forest."

The fairy smiled and daintily landed on his finger. "Just checking up on you, that's all."

"You sure that's all?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. Based upon his time with the creatures, the forest fairies never paid much attention to anyone but themselves.

She giggled and did a little twirl, but didn't say a word.

* * *

Arthur yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had stayed up late studying for his history test the night before and accidently slept in this morning. With a disgruntled sighed, he plugged in his locker combination and opened the metal door. To his surprise, a piece of paper fell out much like what had happened two days ago. He picked up what turned out to be a red origami fox with a white-tipped tail. Its eyes were happily closed. He had to admit that it was rather adorable.

Then he remembered that he was running late. "Shit!" He hung his coat up, grabbed his textbooks, making sure to carefully slip the fox inside one of them, and rushed off to his first class.

Arthur had planned on cramming in some last minute studying before the test, but he soon realized that his mind was far too gone to even bother with skimming over the note. With a sigh, he pulled the fox out of his book and examined it. When he flipped it over, he found a message written in fine print across the back.

 _"Good luck on the history test today. It's going to be a hard one, yes?"_

Arthur blinked in surprise. He lifted his head and looked around the classroom. Nobody seemed to be paying him any attention. He looked back down at the fox and ran his fingers over the message and the colored in heart following it.

 _I've got a secret admirer,_ he thought to himself. _Why else would anyone make stuff like this and write little messages on them?_

His history teacher chose that moment to clap her hands. "Put everything away! Only pencils and erasers are permitted to be out! The test is being passed out now, so shut your mouths!"

Needless to say, Arthur felt that he easily aced the test. The same, however, could not be said for other people in his class.

"Ay, I think my brain is fried," Arthur heard Antonio moan to the rest of the Bad Touch Trio. Gilbert, who was (surprisingly) the history buff of the group, smirked and clapped his friend's shoulder.

"Aw, it'll be alright, Tonio!" he assured. "I'm sure Francis failed it just as much as you!"

Francis did his best to look more offended than he really was. "But I actually studied this time! And yet you try to put me on the same level with Antonio, who only studies when Lovino starts kicking his ass!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and started to walk away.

"Ah, Arthur!"

He stopped and turned at the sound of his name. "Yes?"

Francis reached over and picked something up from the ground. He held the object out to Arthur. "You dropped this," he said.

Arthur paled when he saw the origami fox in Francis's hands. He swiped the object out of the other's grip and slipped it in his textbook in an instant. "Thanks," he grunted.

Francis smiled. "A rather adorable thing you dropped, _lapin_. Where did you get it from?"

"None of your business, frog!" Arthur haughtily huffed and spun on his heel. "Just go back to your friends. See you at the meeting later."

" _Au revoir._ " Francis crossed his arms and watched Arthur disappear down the hallway. Gilbert and Antonio crept up by his sides and watched Arthur vanish into the crowd of students switching classes.

"What did he drop?" Gilbert asked.

Francis smiled softly. His eyes were sparkling with an emotion only Antonio was able to understand. " _Un petit renard,_ " he answered.

* * *

Arthur was stumped. He had absolutely no idea who in the world was sending him the presents. Over the past week and a half, he had received two origami cats, one white and one black, a picture of a cherry blossom tree, and a bird-shaped sticky note. Each one had a different message, all written in a different handwriting style.

"This is getting out of hand," he muttered to himself as he flopped face down on his bed. Today, he had received a rose, purchased from the flower sale the cheerleaders had held. Of course, the note that had come with his flower wasn't signed. All the tag said was, _"A real one is better than a paper one, don't you agree?"_

"Wow, you've got quite the collection here!"

Arthur lifted his head from his pillow to look up at the fairy flying around his nightstand. "Go away."

"Such loving messages too," she giggled. "Someone's fallen hard for you, Arthur!"

"Yes, yes, I am aware of that," he mumbled. "Now go away. I need a moment to fight back this killer headache."

The fairy looked at the rose. She sat down beside it and read the note attached to the stem. She ran her hand over the handwriting and smiled to herself. _Of course he's too blind to see it,_ she mused. _It seems like the magic is working well, though. Good. Very good._

* * *

"Hey, Kiku."

The Japanese boy raised his head and smiled softly at Arthur in greeting. "Ah, _konichiwa,_ Arthur-san. What can I do for you today?"

Arthur took a seat next to the boy. "Has anyone by any chance come to you asking how to make origami lately?"

Kiku looked surprised. "Origami? Why, no, I'm afraid not."

"I see…" Arthur sighed. "It was worth a shot."

"If I may ask, why do you ask?"

Arthur contemplated telling Kiku about the origami presents. He quickly decided that the boy was trustworthy enough to know. "Ah, well, not long ago, I found some origami in my locker."

Kiku raised his eyebrow. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Yeah." Arthur nodded. "I have no idea who sent them, and I thought they may have consulted with you."

" _Sumimasen_ ," Kiku bowed slightly. "I am not able to be much of help."

Arthur waved his hands. "Oh, no, no, it's alright. I was just wondering. Really, I should be the one apologizing for asking you about this."

"Oh, it is no problem, Arthur-san," Kiku said. "I'm actually rather intrigued by your case. If you don't mind me asking, did you receive anything else aside from the origami?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, actually. Some notes and a rose from the cheerleaders' sale."

"Did you receive anything today?"

"No, but the gifts appear at random points in the day, so there might be one now."

Kiku mused upon Arthur's words. "Your secret admirer is quite persistent," he concluded. "Interesting."

 _I see…_ Arthur looked down at the table. He had long since realized that fact, but he hadn't let it sink in quite yet.

"I think," Kiku began, "that they're waiting until the fourteenth to do something special."

Arthur looked up at his friend. "The fourteenth?"

Kiku nodded. "It is Valentine's day after all. It is only natural to assume that your secret admirer has something special planned. After all, why would they choose now to send you gifts?"

 _He has a point,_ Arthur thought.

"Thank you for your insight, Kiku." Arthur smiled. "I think I'll go check to see if I got anything today." He stood up. "I'll see you around!"

" _Jaa ne._ I wish you luck, Arthur-san." Kiku watched Arthur leave the lunchroom before looking back down at his phone. He sent a quick text message to one of his friends. _It seems as though the origami guides were of use to him after all._ His usually dull eyes sparkled and he smiled softly to himself. _I wish you all the best, Arthur. You have quite a surprise coming up for you._

* * *

For the first time in what seemed to be forever, Arthur dreamed that he was a child back in the forest clearing of bluebells. He was smiling and laughing at the fairies dancing in the around him. It took him an extra second to realize that he too was frolicking around with the small winged creatures. He was bouncing and spinning around so much that his hood was about to slip off of his head.

 _"Hello?"_

He stopped dancing and looked up in surprise into the distance. There appeared to be a blonde figure clothed in blue that was slowly approaching him. He frowned and wondered who the stranger could possibly be.

 _"Arthur?"_

All of a sudden, everything changed. He was his teenage self now, not a small child. The fairies had vanished. The stranger in blue was standing right in front of him, blue eyes examining his expression carefully.

 _Francis._ The name failed to slip past his lips. He felt his nerves tense up as Francis gently reached out to hold his hands. It was as though Francis's touch had sent a shockwave throughout his whole body.

 _"Arthur."_ The elder boy smiled.

 _No, no._ Arthur tried to pull his hands away, but quickly found that he couldn't move a muscle. It was as if he had been petrified. _Why are you here? Why are you here with me?_

All of a sudden, the world around him vanished. He blinked furiously into the darkness, trying desperately to see something, _anything,_ really.

 _"Wake up,"_ a voice whispered. _"Wake up, Arthur. Wake up!"_

Arthur's eyes shot open. Much to his surprise, he didn't wake up to the sound of his alarm clock. Instead, he heard what seemed to be the sound of laughter. He lazily turned his head and spotted a tiny fairy sitting on top of his alarm clock, obscuring the ones digit of the minutes slot.

"Good morning!" the fairy greeted.

He buried his face back in his pillow. "What are you doing here?" he mumbled.

"Why isn't that a rude greeting!" She huffed and crossed her arms and legs. "I came all this way to wake you up. You should be grateful."

"I have five minutes. Let me put them to good use." He paused. "Please."

The fairy slipped off of his alarm clock and onto the nightstand. She looked over the various paper trinkets decorating the area. "It's Valentine's Day."

"Your point?"

She fluttered her wings to cast waves of golden dust over the handmade presents. "Aren't you excited to find out who your secret admirer is?"

Arthur rolled over and placed a hand over his eyes. "Not really," he finally admitted.

She frowned and nudged the origami fox with her bare foot. "That won't do," she murmured to herself. When he didn't move, she said, "You know, today is a special day."

"Yes, yes. It's the ever so special day of love. I get it."

She rolled her eyes shook her head. "No, it's _your_ special day of love."

Arthur peeked between his fingers to glare at her. "Still going on about that admirer? It's nothing special. Besides, I haven't the faintest idea who it might be. For all I know, it could be some sort of elaborate prank." He sounded bitter as he threw the assumption out into the open.

"It's not," the fairy stated. "Believe me."

Arthur sneered. "And why should I believe in a tricky creature such as yourself?"

She smiled softly at him. "Because," she whispered with a strangely ancient undertone in her voice, "today is the day we've all been waiting for."

* * *

Arthur was surprised to find something stuck to the front of his locker rather than stuffed inside. He peeled the red cardstock heart from the metal and read it over.

 _"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. (James Baldwin)"_

Arthur felt his expression relax the slightest bit. Because as much as he acted annoyed by the whole charade, he rather liked reading the little messages his gifts came with. With a sigh, he flipped the heart over.

 _"Happy Valentine's Day! I hope you had your usual cup of tea today."_

Arthur ran his fingers over the small teapot drawing beside the message. _It's beautifully drawn,_ he admitted to himself.

 _"Don't expect this to be the last you'll hear of me."_

He stared at the message for a good two minutes. Finally, he shook himself out of his trance and tucked the heart into his bag. He unlocked his locker and retrieved the materials he needed for the day. As he shut the metal box, he looked discretely down the hallway. Everyone, single or not, were enjoying the day's festivities, it seemed. He sighed and readjusted his collar.

 _Might as well get today over with._

* * *

"Oi! Tea bastard!"

Arthur froze in his tracks and turned around. Normally, if anyone called him by such a rude name, he would lose his temperance and reply either snarkily or equally as rude. However, when he saw just what the person was holding, he held his tongue.

"What is it, Lovino?"

Lovino scowled and held out a pink envelope to him. "Some bastard wanted me to deliver this to you," he grumbled.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, but took the letter anyways. "Did Antonio put you up to this?"

"That's none of your fucking business." Lovino looked away and grumbled something in Italian under his breath. Arthur figured he was most likely cussing out his stubborn yet absent-minded boyfriend.

"Right." Arthur sighed. "I suppose you can't tell me who the original sender is?"

Lovino crossed his arms. "That basically defeats the whole purpose of me coming over here and delivering that stupid thing to you, doesn't it?"

"Right, right," Arthur quickly said, not wanting to cause the Italian to become even grumpier than usual. "Well, thank you for your trouble, Lovino."

"You'd better be," Lovino snapped.

Arthur watched the Italian storm off down the hallway. When he was out of sight, he slipped into his English classroom. He waited until he had taken his seat to break the seal on the envelope and pull out the gold-trimmed stationary.

 _"One of the many things I love about you: your gorgeous emerald eyes. I get lost in them as if I am Alice in Wonderland."_

The bell rang and Arthur had to stash the letter away. Throughout the whole lesson, however, he couldn't help but wonder just who could possibly get lost in something like his eyes. And if he could return the same sentiment to his admirer as well.

* * *

Kiku smiled as Arthur took a seat beside him at lunch. " _Konichiwa,_ Arthur-san. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Hello, Kiku. Happy Valentine's Day to you too." Arthur pulled out his thermos of tea. "Boy has today been a doozy."

"Has your secret admirer stepped forward yet?" Kiku asked.

Arthur shook his head. "Afraid not. They seem to be beating around the bush. I've gotten a heart on my locker and a letter delivered by Lovino today." He looked out of the corner of his eye at the table in the far back, where the Bad Touch Trio and Lovino were sitting.

"Delivered by Lovino-kun?" Kiku seemed impressed. "I wonder how they managed to pull that one off."

Arthur nodded in agreement. "I bet Antonio convinced him." He shot another glare at the Bad Touch Trio's table. "But that means he's in cahoots with the culprit as well. And that, odds are, the rest of the lot know about this as well."

Kiku paused to think. "Who do you think it is, Arthur-san?" he finally asked.

Arthur looked up and over at the Japanese boy. "Who do I what?"

"Who do you believe has been sending you these presents?"

Arthur rested his elbow against the table and rested his head in his palm. He scrunched his eyebrows in contemplation. "I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea. Why do you ask?" When Kiku didn't respond, he looked up at his friend to see what he was doing. "Kiku?" His mouth dropped.

Kiku smiled and held out the box he had seemingly pulled out of nowhere. "I asked because today, I am also a messenger from your secret admirer," he explained.

Arthur blinked furiously and looked up and down between the box and his friend. "What..? Wait, so you know who..?"

Kiku continued smiling and didn't say a word. Arthur forced himself out of shock in order to generously take the box from his friend.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry you had to do this..."

"It really is no problem, Arthur-san," Kiku insisted. He motioned to the box. "Go on. Open it."

Arthur carefully untied the ribbon wound around the box and lifted the lid. He blinked in surprise at the various sweets lying in little paper cups inside. Lying on top of the multicolored sweets was a note written on pink stationery. "Bloody hell," he murmured. "These must've cost a fortune."

Kiku chuckled softly into his head. "In a way, I believe they did."

Arthur picked up the note and began to read.

 _"Made with lots of love and care. They should taste better than your charcoal."_

Arthur's eye twitched at the winky face scrawled at the end of the message. "That bloody..! When I get my hands on them..!"

Kiku continued to laugh softly. _Of course he reacts in this manner._

When he finally calmed down, Arthur picked up a small chocolate and bit into it. His face lit up in an instant. "It's...good." He looked back down at the note. _Made with lots of love and care...but no. That can't be possible. These cannot all be..!_

"Do you know where these came from?" he asked.

Kiku nodded slowly. "Indeed." He picked up his chopsticks and resumed eating his rice. "They were handmade by your admirer. I helped."

"You... _helped?_ " Arthur couldn't wrap his mind around the whole situation. "As in, you helped make all of these..!" He sat back and looked at the box in shock. "Oh my god. You actually know who my admirer is. You bloody knew who it was this whole time!" He laughed. "Well, isn't that a kick in the head!"

Kiku smiled. "Happy Valentine's Day, Arthur-san."

* * *

When Arthur walked into his math class, he was cheerfully greeted by Elizabeta. She was holding a beautiful bundle of red roses.

"The flowers look lovely," he complimented. "Who gave them to you?"

The Hungarian girl's jade eyes lit up. "Oh, oh _no!_ " Her shoulders shook as she laughed, causing her brown hair to shake as well. "These aren't for me."

"Oh?" Arthur smiled. "Who's the lucky person?"

"Oh, _no,_ Arthur!" She lifted the bundle of roses up into Arthur's face. He just barely caught sight of the cardstock card nestled between the buds. "These aren't from me. I'm just playing as a delivery girl today!"

Arthur felt his face flush as he took the flowers. "Oh, thank you, Elizabeta. But I'm _so_ sorry that you—"

"Nonsense!" she snapped, jabbing him in the stomach to emphasize the word. "I volunteered to do this! It's the least I can do! Besides," she grinned devilishly, "I think you and your admirer would be cute together. You two already have some chemistry going on, you know."

Arthur blinked in shock. "Wait, I know them?"

She giggled. "Read the card, Artie."

He ignored the childish nickname she had called him by and reached for the card. It was heart shaped and lined with white lace and pearls. The words _"Be Mine"_ were etched across the front in loppy calligraphy. "They're really outdoing themselves," he grumbled as he turned the card over.

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Oh, you're just a special one, Artie."

"Am I?" he asked. But he didn't bother listening to her answer. He was too distracted by the message printed on the back of the card.

 _"You know what amazes me? How we are so close, yet so far. Every time we meet, I feel like I could talk to you forever, but I can't. Sometimes, when I think of you, I can't help but wonder if what I'm feeling is really the love I've worshipped my whole life. Strange, isn't it?"_

 _Cheesy sap._ Arthur set the roses down on his desk. _Bloody cheesy sap. Just who the hell are you?_

"I'm assuming you can't drop more hints about my admirer's identity."

Elizabeta looked up with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. "You're a lucky guy, Arthur," she finally said. "A really, _really_ lucky guy. That's all."

* * *

The rest of the school day went by smoothly. Before he knew it, the school day was over and he was standing in front of his locker, wondering just how the hell he was going to transport the gifts his admirer had indirectly given him home.

" _Bonjour, lapin._ "

Arthur yelped and nearly smacked his head against the side of his locker. "Bloody hell!" He leaned back and glared up at the smirking blonde beside him. "Don't do that!"

Francis ignored the poisonous look Arthur was giving him. "My, my! That's quite a hoard you've got there. Ladies man, aren't you?"

"Hardly," Arthur snapped. "They're all from the same person."

"Really? _Qui?_ "

"I beg your pardon?"

Francis sighed. "Who?" he translated.

Arthur looked away. "Haven't the slightest clue."

Francis's face lit up. " _Mon dieu!_ A secret admirer! Who would've thought?"

"Oh, just piss off already!" Arthur slipped his jacket on. "Aren't you supposed to be off on a date with whatever girl you've snagged this time? What are you doing here?"

Francis smirked and held up his hand. "Ah, I have a message for you from this secret admirer of yours, I'm afraid."

Arthur stared at the letter in Francis's grasp in shock. "You too?"

" _Oui._ It seems they're a wee bit shy." Francis gently slid the letter into Arthur's coat pocket. "Oh, and a request from them: don't open it until you're home."

Arthur looked down at his pocket. "Why?"

Francis chuckled. "Well, I'd be spoiling the surprise if I told you, _non_?" He gazed into Arthur's eyes. Arthur couldn't help but notice how Francis's cerulean eyes were sparkling more than usual. "Well, I'm off now. Unlike some people, I have better things to do than entertain a little _rosbif_ like you." He gently bopped Arthur on the nose before turning around and walking away. " _Au revoir!_ "

Arthur watched Francis disappear down into the hallway. When the Frenchman was out of sight, he shook himself out of his daze and turned back towards his locker.

 _Snap out of it,_ he scolded himself. His hand slipped into his pocket and fingered the corner of the envelope. _Well, I suppose I should get home quickly and finally sort out this mess._

* * *

 _"...Don't open it until you're home."_

 _Well, here I bloody am._ Arthur leaned against his bedroom door. He could still hear the muffled shouts of his brothers downstairs even through the thick walls of the house. With a sigh, he dumped his backpack by his dresser and collapsed into a chair. He stared at the letter he was balancing in his hand. _Should I open it?_ He held it up to the light, but was only able to see the shadow of the letter sealed within the envelope. _It feels like this is too easy. After all the secrecy, gifts, and the messengers too…_

"You seriously can't be too scared to open it."

Arthur didn't have to look to know that the fairy was floating nearby. "I never said anything of that sort."

The small mythical creature tilted her head to the side. "Open it."

"Why?"

"Well, what do you have to lose?"

Arthur continued to stare at the letter. "It just...seems rather dull, doesn't it?"

"What?"

"This letter." He traced his name, which was penned across the face of the envelope in small, blocky letters. "That everything that's happened just leads up to this." He frowned. "I dunno. I was expecting something...more."

The fairy rolled her eyes. "Is that it? You're just going to throw away all of their hard work over a bloody letter? Let all of the secrecy and elaborate gifts go to waste? Is that how much people's emotions mean to you now?"

Arthur sat in stunned silence. Her words had stung him in a way he had never expected them to do before. She was about to continue when he hung his head and turned the letter over. His fair fingers slipped under the flap and tore straight across the top of the letter. She smiled as he pulled out the letter sealed within the envelope and began to read.

 _"Your eyes aren't the only thing I've come to love about you, you know. I love your messy, punk hair and your sharp, skillful tongue. I love the way you snort when you're overconfident or frustrated. Oh, and your smile, Arthur. It is the most beautiful thing in the world. You should smile more often. Preferably for me."_

 _Well then,_ Arthur snorted to himself.

 _"Though, I suppose that's a rather rough thing to do when you don't know who I am. Depressing, isn't it?"_

 _Just a bit,_ Arthur admitted.

 _"Well, I suppose I'll spare you from whatever suffering you may be going through. Of course, you're going to have to do a little problem solving with that pretty little head of yours, but that shouldn't be a problem, yes?"_

Arthur reread the second sentence over and over again. _"Pretty little head"? Did they just..?_

 _"Just follow the little rabbit to the hole leading to Wonderland. I'll be waiting for you. I'll always be waiting for you."_

Arthur felt his hands shake. _Follow the rabbit to Wonderland?_ He almost crinkled the paper. _What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean? What "rabbit" am I supposed to follow?_ He dropped the letter into his lap, leaned back in his chair, and placed his hands over his eyes. "Bloody hell," he groaned. "Do you know anything about this?" When there was no answer, he turned and found that the fairy had vanished. "Perfect," he mumbled. "Just bloody perfect." A strangled laugh escaped from his lips. "And here I thought it was going to be simple…"

When he finished feeling sorry for himself, he read the letter again. And again. And again. Yet, he still couldn't figure out what the clue could possibly mean. With a disgruntled sigh of defeat, he turned the letter over and froze when he saw that something was written in the corner.

 _"You know, bluebells are associated with everlasting love. Fitting, isn't it?"_

He blinked once. Twice. He read the sentence again, the words echoing aimlessly in his head. Before he knew it, he had leapt out of his chair, thrown his bedroom door open, and ran down the stairs. His eldest brother stopped him to ask where he was going, to which he screamed " _THAT BLOODY FROG!_ " before racing out of the door and into the woods, forgetting that it was six degrees outside and the innards of the forest were pitch black at this hour.

 _That bastard!_ He forced himself to ignore the cold and continued clumsily navigating through the dense forest. _When I get my hands on him, I'm going to fucking wring the life out of that smug little smile!_

* * *

By the time Arthur reached the edge of the forest clearing, he was a shivering, frozen mess. He sincerely regretted not putting on a coat before flying out of his house and into the forest. But the moment he stepped forward and felt the frozen world magically melt away to the warm arms of eternal spring, he banished his regrets from his mind and focused on the more pressing issue at hand.

"You have got to be joking." He slowly walked forward and kept rubbing his eyes, checking to make sure that he wasn't just seeing things. Because in the middle of the bluebell infested clearing, there was a table covered by a white tablecloth that had what appeared to be a grand assortment of sweets, which were either stacked in neat little towers or arranged in neat little rows on plates. There was a fresh pot of tea and two empty cups sitting beside a platter of small cakes. Topping it all off were the rose petals scattered across the tabletop.

"Arthur!"

He felt his muscles tense at the accented sound of his name, at the way the syllables curled off of the other's tongue. Slowly, very slowly, he spun around to finally meet the sparkling eyes of his once elusive admirer.

"Francis," he breathed.

The blue-eyed French teen smiled softly at Arthur. " _Lapin._ You finally came."

Arthur swallowed nervously. His mind scrambled for the right words to say. "It was you. Everything...was your doing."

Francis leaned back against the table. " _Oui,_ " he admitted. "Though I will admit that I had some help."

"Why?"

Francis quirked an eyebrow at the other. "Hmm?"

Arthur suddenly felt as though his mouth was filled with sand. "Why...why do it?" he asked softly. "Why even bother? We hate each other. We're sworn enemies for life. So why..?"

"Arthur, you can't seriously not understand." Francis pushed himself off the table. "Haven't you read any of my letters? My cards? My notes?"

"I...have."

"Then you would know the answer."

Arthur felt his head start to spin when Francis started getting closer. For a brief moment, his mind drifted off to the dream he had the night before.

 _Was that...a sign?_ he wondered. _That this would happen?_

He jumped when Francis reached out and took his hands in his. Francis's hands were soft and warm, a stark contrast to Arthur's frozen fingers.

"I love you, Arthur," Francis whispered. "I know that it does not seem like it, but I do. I love your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes light up when you're excited. Hell, even those hideous caterpillars of yours." His lips curled into a soft smile. "We may have never gotten along before, but maybe, just maybe…" His fingers curled in between Arthur's. "Maybe things can be different. For the both of us."

Arthur was at a loss for words. _I love you._ His mind kept repeating the words over and over. _He loves me. My archnemesis, my lifetime rival, loves me._

"I understand if you do not return my feelings now," Francis continued. "Such is the way love sometimes is, I'm afraid." His eyes locked onto Arthur's and the Brit couldn't help but feel his breath hitch when he saw just how much Francis's ocean blue eyes were sparkling. "But know that I will always be waiting for you. This clearing, this place we are in, is proof of that."

"This place?" Arthur finally squeaked.

"You don't know?" Francis tilted his head in confusion. "The tale surrounding this forest?"

Arthur closed his eyes. He knew the story quite well. The problem was getting himself to believe that the tale was referring to him and Francis.

"Of course I bloody know," Arthur snapped. "I just…"

 _But no matter how you look at it,_ a tiny voice in the back of his mind said, _everything about this place proves it._

"I didn't want to believe it," he mumbled.

A long silence passed between the two. Finally, Francis squeezed Arthur's hands and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

"Oh, _lapin,_ " he sighed. "When I first realized the truth, I didn't want to believe it either." He then smiled. "But here we are."

Arthur forced himself to look Francis eye to eye. The French teen was looking happily back at him. He seemed to be waiting for something. _An answer,_ Arthur realized. _An answer to before._

"I…" Arthur swallowed. A part of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that he should break away and flee. That he couldn't trust anybody and couldn't afford to be tied down by such foolish notations such as the idea of love. But the other part, the stronger part, was soothingly urging him to listen to his heart. To let his emotions take over his actions for once. To stop running away in fear and cowardice.

" _Oui?_ "

Arthur took a deep breath.

 _Let your emotions take over._

"I think I just might, in a way, love you too."

A wide smile broke out on Francis's face. Arthur looked like he wanted to say something else, but Francis opted to wrap his arms around Arthur's hips and press his lips against the flustered Brit's lips instead of wait and listen. Arthur made a surprised sound at first, but quickly accepted it and smiled. It was far from Francis's first kiss, but something about sharing a liplock with Arthur in the forest clearing of bluebells felt extra special. Magical, even. It was as if they were creating a spark that caused the entire world to burst with life.

" _Je t'aime_ ," Francis breathed when they broke apart. " _Je t'aime, mon petit lapin. Mon cœur. Mon amour._ "

Arthur snorted softly. "I don't speak _that_ much frog."

Francis chuckled. "I love you, my little rabbit. My heart. My love," he translated. He then bopped Arthur on the nose. "I'm never letting you go."

Arthur's face flushed an even darker shade of red. "You stupid, _stupid_ sappy frog..!" he spluttered. "I swear, I'm going to _end_ you, promises of love or not..!" He was silenced by yet another kiss and instantly lost all will to fight back when Francis smiled.

In the distance, the woodland spirits were in high spirits. The fairies all darted back and forth between each other, excitedly talking in hushed whispers about the events transpiring within the magical boundaries of the spring clearing.

"They're finally together." One particular fairy smiled and shook her head. "At long last." She stretched her hands out and examined the glowing golden dust excitedly flaking off her arms with satisfaction. "Now our magic can roam free once more," she whispered before fading into a cloud of brilliant golden dust. Soon after, the other forest spirits had faded into brilliant multicolored dust. A gentle wind suddenly drifted by and scattered the sparkling particles in all directions, sending them spinning into the depths of the once sleeping forest of mystery.

* * *

"But was it _really_ necessary to drag all of those people into this? Especially those... _friends_ of yours?"

Francis chuckled into his teacup. "Why are you so worked up about that? They weren't strangers, _oui?_ Besides, my friends are perfectly good people, contrary to that silly little nickname you gave us all that time ago..."

Arthur pouted (rather adorably, if Francis might add). "Well, they weren't strangers, but—"

Francis squeezed Arthur's hand. "Relax, _mon amour._ They were more than eager to help. Elizabeta and Kiku were especially keen on lending a hand once Gilbert filled them in on the details."

"And Lovino?"

"Ah, well, it took a bit of persuasion and bribes on Antonio's part to convince him to cooperate. I honestly wanted to send in Feliciano, but Antonio _insisted…_ "

Arthur scowled. "So your friends did play a little bit dirty in this operation."

Francis set his teacup down. "Oh, stop whining," he sighed, wrapping a squeaking Arthur in his arms as he did. "It worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Arthur mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, _cher_?"

Arthur huffed. "I _guess_ it turned out alright in the end."

Francis smiled and kissed his lover's forehead. " _Je t'aime, sourcils._ "

Arthur snorted, but smiled softly regardless. "Love you too, you bloody git."

" _Your_ bloody git."

"Yes, yes, whatever."


End file.
